File Stealing
by Simon920
Summary: Personal information is appearing in the press. Not good.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**File Stealing**

**Part One**

The first hint that there was a problem was when a story which first appeared on the Internet was published in the National Enquirer detailing Britney's latest stay in the hospital under a protective/suicide watch lockdown. There were details about what she was wearing, what she ate, who came to visit her and what the long turn prognosis might be. Everything was completely accurate.

There were complaints filed by her family, an investigation was launched by the hospital and four employees were fired and later sued for breach of privacy rules and violating their contacts and professional standards.

It was quickly forgotten.

A year or so later there was another similar story, this time in People, detailing Angelina's latest birth experience. There were the phone numbers lifted from Paris' lost phone and the details regarding the celebrity twins who were close to death after a medication mistake.

Personal matters were no longer private.

The leaks kept cropping up; an actress's personal honeymoon photos on a blog, a shady politician caught with his girlfriend while his wife and family vacationed in Europe. It was an old game and anyone in the public eye knew—or should have known—that they were potential targets. It was wrong, it was unethical (like anyone cared) and it was possibly illegal but nothing was done to stop it, not really.

The Superhero community were targets as much as anyone but for a long time their heightened security and the fact that many of them actually did live clean lives prevented much from finding it's way into the wrong hands. There was also an intimidation factor at work; would anyone in their right mind really want to risk pissing off Batman or Wonder Woman? There were rumors about some outrageous and occasional promiscuous behavior, sure, but proof—or at least incriminating pictures—those were in short supply and a lot of the paps strongly suspected that x-ray vision and super-speed had something to do with that. Of course, no one admitted anything.

There seemed to be an unspoken agreement—the celebrities were almost fair game but the heroes were semi-off limits, assuming they kept their noses relatively clean. Well, among the higher grade of scum reporters, anyway. And the younger ones, the sidekicks? Aside from the teen romance garbage stories, they were largely left alone.

For a while, anyway.

Then the first blurb appeared on one of the gossip blogs. _"Rumors are flying—or roof-jumping—that one of our younger but more experienced crimebusters has been keeping himself busy all night long with more than arrests and may have found some interesting alternate uses for those Batcuffs he favors…how soon they grow up…"_

There was no response from any member of the Batfamily and after a couple of days the story died a natural death.

It wasn't too long, maybe a week or so, when another blog, this time backed up by a small blind item in the Star came up with a follow-up. _"We'd lovelovelove to be a bat on the wall of one of our better built young heroes bedroom wall, but are afraid we'd get whiplash by trying to keep track of all the—ahem—workouts going on. Here's hoping he's not keeping track on the bedposts because we'd fear that many notches would weaken the structural integrity. But, hey, we agree he's earned some 'down' time. Work hard, play hard—as hard and as often as possible, we say!"_

There was no response.

Another few weeks went by with no real new gossip showing up on any of the usual sites or in the usual tabs. There were some of the old rumors about how close the original Titans were back when they were all together with all those teenaged hormones running rampart. But there was really nothing new and nothing they took any notice of. It was just business as usual.

_"A little bird just told us that a former, no longer married (female) member of the Titans was seen at a local Rite-aid looking at the pregnancy tests and ended up buying three—just making extra sure? We can't help but wonder who was waiting for those results with the dark-haired beauty."_

Again, it was ignored though Donna ranted to Dick on the phone and ended up in tears at the memories of her broken marriage and dead son. She was an adult and what she chose to do on her own time, and whom she chose to do it with was no one's business. This was hitting too close to home and Dick was angry on her behalf, wishing there was something he could do but public figures gave up part of their rights of privacy. It didn't seem right, but it was a fact. Besides, anyone can go into a store and anyone can talk about what they see there. But it was just so—invasive.

For himself, he didn't care. He'd lived in the public eye all his life and his parents had taught him early not to pay any attention to garbage; in fact his father used to make a game out of it, laughing at the absurd headlines and giving them the small shrift they deserved. It had become an ingrained habit and his years with Bruce and ongoing reports about his lay of the week had just reinforced it; he never read the crap and if he heard about something anyway, he just shrugged it off.

_"Now we know that sometimes we tend to focus on our subjects social life but we've become concerned—truly—with the physical side of things regarding our younger heroes. No, not that physical part, we're talking about basic, run of the mill good health. Our little bird has some information which has us seriously worried about just how dangerous this crime-busting stuff can be. We've heard tell of numerous broken bones, multiple concussions and such exhaustion related symptoms as severe nightmares, and stress related problems we wouldn't wish on the Joker. (Okay, maybe we'd wish them on the Joker…) We're begging you, sweetbatbuns—take care of yourself, okay?"_

Dick saw the blurb on his computer, part of an e-mail from Wally, and he was majorly annoyed by it. Could someone have cracked his personal medical records and sold them to some frigging gossip columnist? Okay, he knew his privacy was compromised but his sealed medical records? Nah, unlikely. It was just a lucky guess, a shot in the dark. The odds of someone actually getting ahold of his personal and heavily secured medical files were almost null.

Unless…Crap.

Okay, maybe someone was just taking a few lucky guesses, but maybe not.

The clincher came a few days later when Roy showed him the latest; _'Honeybatbunny, you've got to take better care of yourself. We all know you have a killer bod, but it's become a target for too many killers over the years. Three bullet wounds? Seven broken or fractured bones? Two concussions serious enough to have you in a private hospital for a few weeks? Too many sprains and torn muscles to count and a case of pneumonia that had you on a respirator last winter. Tales of torture at the hands of the world's most hardened baddies? Birdboy—if we were your parents we'd send you up to your room, lock the door and throw away the key until you were old enough to make your own decisions about these things and had the sense not to listen to a grown man who dresses up like a…well, you know what he dresses up like. You be careful, you hear us?'_

Christ, someone knew way the hell too much about things and he knew they hadn't come by it legally. Sure, he could try to just catch whoever it was who was getting paid for this stuff, but maybe if he approached it from another angle…He had to do something about this so handled it the simplest way he could think of, he picked up the phone and made a call to the Editor-in-chief of the Star. Not too surprisingly he was put through immediately.

"Ms. Parker?"

"Yes, forgive me, but is this really Robin?"

"Yes it is. I assume you have caller ID? Check the number—I'm calling from my office at GCPD Headquarters. That should be easy enough to verify."

"I'll have an assistant do that while we talk, if you don't mind. I assume you're calling about the series of blind items we've run the last few weeks?"

"You have to know the danger you're exposing me and my friends to by printing these things."

The woman may have been publishing slime, but she wasn't stupid. "Then you're not issuing a denial?" Her secretary caught her attention through the glass wall dividing them, she was nodding and pointing to the phone—whoever the person on the other end of the line was, he was calling from Police Headquarters in Gotham.

"I'm not making any comment at all about what you've written; I'm pointing out a fact regarding the safety of myself and people who matter to me. You're compromising what I do and I'd like to ask you to stop. I'd also like to point out that medical information is privileged. You've violated the law by buying or stealing that information and compounded it by printing it."

The woman tried not to smile; the kid on the other end of the phone sounded so earnest that it made her picture Little League baseball games and small boys with dirty faces eating melting Popsicle's on a hot summer day. It was kind of sweet, even if he was angry. "You have to know that you sell papers and that's what we're in business to do; you're moving a lot of units for us. Newsstand sales are up almost fifty-thousand copies since we've been running the blind blurbs and put your picture on the cover."

"You're getting in the way of my job and that means that criminals are going free who should be behind bars."

"Gotham has more cops than Orville Redenbacher has corn fields. They'll manage."

"Then you refuse to stop running the items?"

"I'm in business to make money for myself and my employers. I'm sure you understand. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"It would seem not. Goodbye."

"Goodbye and feel free to call me anytime, Robin."

* * *

The blind items continued over the course of several long months.

_"We've a new worry about one of our younger heroes. It seems that our little bird hit the bull's eye when we learned about one of the lads has a serious drug problem and no one seems to be doing anything about it. With any luck someone will open their eyes, bow to the inevitable and arrange a room in one of the better rehab centers ASAP. And we mean ASAP."_

A few weeks later another item appeared.

_"Yet another little bird clued us in about our young drug dependant hero—it seems he has good friends, indeed. One of whom has taken the lad under his wing for some one on one, up close and personal cold turkey several months before Thanksgiving. We hope it takes. Whether they're holed up in a cave or not, we wish them the best."_

There was still no comment from any of the hero groups but the items were getting more and more attention, raising eyebrows and being repeated on the evening news, the morning shows, the entertainment shows and the weekend report devoted solely to hero doings of the week. Finally, the JLA requested a meeting with the Teen Titans to see what, if anything, might be done.

_"And yet one more thing for our young hot shot to be concerned about—it seems that several tests for several of the nastier strains of STD's have come back positive, poor dear. We strongly suggest that he consider keeping it in his tights while he recovers, for the sake of everyone involved. What are they teaching kids nowadays?"_

"Dick, do you know anything about this? Obviously this is Roy, but how the hell did it hit the media? Don't you have any security in place for yourselves?"

Dick almost, but not quite, exploded at Bruce's unfairness and naivete. How the hell did he think this stuff got out? Someone found it, probably illegally, stole it and sold it to the highest bidder. Talk about a no-brainer. And clearly the leaks were continuing since the crap they were printing was pretty up to date.

_'We're thrilled to report that out strung out young hero has been taken under the wing of a close friend (no—not that close, kiddies!) and is now clean and drug free. We gather it was a rough two weeks or so and involved the need for new paint, furniture and window glass at their chosen hideaway, but all's well that ends well. Here's hoping that the boys keep their respective noses clean.'_

"Where is all this information gathered? I mean, is it in one place, on one file or something along those lines?"

"It's scattered in a few places, Clark. The stuff about our personal medical information is supposed to be on secured drives protected by just about every security system we could find. The stories about Roy and his going cold turkey isn't anywhere on any of our hard drives." Dick saw the disbelieving looks. "Okay, it may be on my personal journal on my laptop but I never connect that computer to the Internet. There shouldn't be any way to get it. It almost never leaves either my room at the Manor or my quarters in the Tower. Donna's personal life is her own business, I don't know who she talks to but I know she's too smart to be indiscrete."

Green Arrow stood up. "So you're saying that everything is secure, no one made any slips or mistakes and you don't have any idea how all this classified information has been spread all over the world? Bullshit to that." He slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the coffee mugs. "You have any idea how compromised we now are?"

"Look, Ollie, it's not just the Titans. Have you seen TMZ today?" Dick brought the site up on the main monitor.

_'Word from good sources is that Mrs. Flash is expecting twins—shades of Angie and Brad! Our congratulations and best wishes to the happy couple!'_

This was followed by a blurb on PerezHilton: _'We happened to be at the Roxy last night and who should drop in but the man himself—Green Lantern, we mean and we don't mind telling you that we wouldn't mind a piece of that! Sadly, he had eyes only for a va-va-voom blonde at the bar who left with him in the haze of a green glow. Come breakfast, said damsel was seen hailing a cab, last night's clothes rather haphazardly thrown on. You know what we always say—work hard, pay hard and these boys (and girls) deserve some R&R!'_

"Well crap—has anyone checked with the medical files we all have out there? Maybe there's been some kind of screw up in their security."

"A security breech at Star Labs? Yeah right, Arthur."

"Shove the sarcasm, Kyle—you know as well as I do that everything has a price and do I have to add that you might consider finding your entertainment in some place a little more private that whatever the latest hot club is."

Robin held up his hand. "Let's try to stay on track here. And we've already checked the selling gossip route; nothing."

"And I'm gonna believe a sixteen year old kid because why? You wanna answer that one for me, Boy Wonder? Of course someone's making money out of this."

"That's enough, Ollie. Roy became a drug addict under your nose and you didn't notice; you're in no position to say anything here." That stopped Arrow; no one messed with Wonder Woman.

"All right, clearly we have to find wherever this leak is and stop it. Rob, anything you can give us would be helpful and I'd like to ask the Titans to put their efforts into helping us, if that's agreeable to you."

"Sure, of course, Clark."

They went back and forth, reviewing the security systems and the back ups. They went on about who they associated with out of costume, they thought about co-workers—the ones not in spandex they saw with regularity. They thought about their neighbors, teachers, students, ex's. The problem was that though they all had someone they could reasonably suspect, there was no one who would have access to everyone's info and that was the sticking point.

The obvious suspects, paps or reports out to make money or criminals looking for revenge were tossed around without any results, as well.

_'We're undecided about whether to be shocked or pleased as punch to learn from our little bird that a wonder of a boy may now be considered a man, if you catch our drift. Some may think this is a—ahem—little premature, but with a young man as precocious as this one, well, we say—more power to you, darlin'!'_

"Richard!"

"Like, big deal, Bruce. And my role model is who…?"

"Hardly the point, are you actually going to stand there and not even attempt to deny this?"

Dick shrugged and started to walk away, unconcerned and a little annoyed that he was being grilled about something he didn't think was anyone's business but his own.

"Consider yourself grounded until further notice."

Oh, please. "Why?"

"Don't even try that. Upstairs and we'll discuss this later."

Amid rolled eyes, Bruce heard the too clipped 'Fine" as the boy went upstairs.

Christ. Teenagers. But if this was true, it was past time he sat the kid down for a talk about the realities of being 'active'. Maybe Alfred would handle this better…

* * *

Two weeks went by with the reports and blogs continuing, though with nothing of import. Finally Dick caught a hint on one of the sites.

_'So, we've been keeping our ears to the ground, but it seems that things are way too quiet in the Hero business, as it were—or just business as usual, I guess you could say. Except for one lil snickerty-snack I happened upon just last evening. Two of our senior heroes were out crime-busting, looking almost like twins in their oh so dark and way too form fitting uniforms (not that we're complaining!) when they accidentally dropped a clue about their dual identities. Now I'm not saying anything and heaven forbid I drop that kind of serious info, but you can bet you bottom two dollars that this is too juicy to keep hidden forever. _

_Just a word to the wise, but these boys need to be a scoot more careful.'_

He called Bruce with his suspicions.

"But he's in jail."

"I didn't say 'him'."

"Meaning?"

"C'mon, Bruce, it's not like you to need me to draw you a map."

"…Of course."

_'According to our little birdie who knows about these things, it seems that Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding—the Bat-Guy himself, has once or twice sought the assistance of professionals to help him cope with the different demons which darken his head now and then._

_Well, we all need someone to talk to now and then, but we're surprised that he didn't just have a sit down chat with his own lil Side-kick Baby-bird…'_

A week later this appeared;

_'My special friend who knows about these things tells me that our favorite little crime-busting baby bird has been battered and bruised more times than we can could in his quest for truth, justice and all of that. Broken bones, torn muscles, too many stitches to count, illnesses brought on by exhaustion and the stress of being under inhuman and impossible standards to maintain—and all of this while still jailbait. We're just saying that a sixteen year old might be too young to make the kind of life-style decisions required to live this kind of life and we'd hate to have to read an obituary for someone still in high school. Are we the only ones who think that sidekicks might not be the best idea ever hatched?'_

TBC

9


	2. Chapter 2

**File Stealing Part Two**

"So you think you know who's doing this?"

"Two-Face."

Batman gave Robin an enigmatic look. "You sure about that?"

"Almost."

"Which isn't good enough."

"I'll have the proof soon enough."

Bruce removed his cowl. "I think you're jumping the gun here."

Dick hid his annoyance; he wasn't exactly a rookie here. "Why?"

"Doesn't add up if you look at everything."

"That's why I'll find the proof, I'm sure it's him. It's the kind of thing he can do from prison by just writing letters and that last blurb had some pretty strong hints about the whole 'two' thing."

Bruce shook his head. "I'm not convinced, but maybe."

Dick glanced at the clock on the monitor. "'Gotta go. 'Later."

Bruce listened to the custom Ninja motorcycle roar out of the cave, hating that he still worried about how fast Dick drove the damn thing.

Two-Face? Maybe Dick was right, it was possible. It was the kind of thing someone like him would do to amuse himself while he was in a cell, but something about it struck him as being off.

Dick was good at what he did. If he put his mind and his resources to solving this, then he'd get it soon enough. In the meantime, most of the damage had been minor and more embarrassing than actually harmful. They could all afford to let this ride for a while.

_'So we've been talking to our little bird again and we've learned some secret dish, kiddies. 'Remember how we told you about our young Bat-boy's—ahem—exploits now that he's (shall we say) a growing boy? It seems that he's been spreading himself a bit thin lately and romancing more than one lovely lady at a time, that rascal. All we can say is that he needs to be careful about pillow talk so he doesn't make one of those oh so embarrassing and unforgivable slips at an awkward time. Just a word to the wise, Honeybatbunny.'_

"Hey Dick—you keeping secrets from your old friend here?"

Dick shifted the phone to his other shoulder. "What are you talking about, Roy?"

"Perez is saying you're two-timing your girlfriend, you horn-dog, you."

"I don't have a girlfriend; Lori dumped me last week."

"Yeah, well, this may be the reason. C'mon, Dickie-m'lad—that's the kind of thing I get hung out to dry for, not you. Christ, you're a frigging Boy Scout; famous for it."

Dick looked over at Roy's laptop. Yes, there it was the insinuation that he was screwing around on his non-existent girlfriend. Whatever. It was bullshit, it wasn't true and it was harmless, just like Bruce said it was. The thing he didn't get was why Harvey was wasting his time on this small potatoes kind of garbage. He was always good for some major stuff, not this minor harassment.

Well, fine. He'd take the bull by the horns, as it were.

"Where you going?"

"Akhram."

"Why?"

"I want to talk to Harvey Dent about stopping this crap."

"You want to talk to Two-Face face to face? Party-on, Robbie."

'_Sadsadsad, that's what we are. It seems that our little babybat has bee found out by his now former girlfriends and neither young lady is speaking to the young winged one. Poor baby is all alone in that big ole' cave with no one to play with._

_We are also officially stating that, no mater what you've heard—and we've all heard __plenty__—the only 'tussling that happens in said cave is of the official training kind, not the kink kind._

_Or that's the official word, anyway._

_Personally, we have our doubts. The non-official reason for the splits is lack of quality time with the dear lad but we've heard from our little bird that he has plenty of time for those he chooses to share with, if you know what we mean.'_

Robin easily secured permission to question Harvey Dent, so long as the man's lawyer could be present for any questioning. The three met in a small room deep in the fortress like prison.

"All right, Robin, my client has agreed to answer your questions, however you know there are areas we won't discuss because of client/lawyer confidentiality. Go ahead."

"Okay, let's get right to it; why are you selling this crap to the Tabloids?"

Harvey had tossed the coin and it was, indeed, Harvey who was sitting across the table. "I'm not."

Robin gave him a skeptical look. "Uh-huh. You know that selling confidential medical records is a violation. I can see that it adds a few years to your stay here."

"That was an implied threat to my client, Robin. I'll have to ask you to refrain from this sort of thing or we'll have to terminate this interview."

"Fine. Why should I believe you, Harvey?"

"May I ask why you seem to think I'm behind trying to tarnish your reputation?"

Robin pushed a piece of paper over to Harvey. It was a printout from one of the recent blind items with parts Robin had underlined: _'So, we've been keeping our ears to the ground, but it seems that things are way **too** quiet in the Hero business, as it were—or just business as usual, I guess you could say._

_Except for one lil snickerty-snack I happened upon just last evening._

_**Two** of our senior heroes were out crime-busting, looking almost like **twins** in their oh so dark and way **too** form fitting uniforms (not that we're complaining!) when they accidentally dropped a **clue about their dual identities**. Now I'm not saying anything and heaven forbid I drop that kind of serious info, but you can **bet your bottom two dollars**that this is **too** juicy **to** keep hidden forever._

_Just a word **to** the wise, but these boys need **to** be a scoot more careful.'_

Harvey and his lawyer looked the thing over for a moment before the lawyer spoke. "You're reaching for straws here, boy. Coincidence and nothing more."

"I'd like to hear what Harvey has to say about this; why should I believe he's not involved?"

"Because I have no access to the information you seem to think I'm selling or giving away or whatever it is I'm supposed to be doing. I have no computer, no magazines, no book and all my calls—two a month—are monitored. All my mail, both in and out, is screened and I'm allowed visits with just Mr. Griffin here. In addition, this really isn't my kind of thing when you come down to it. I prefer grander statements than slinging some gossip."

Robin studied him as he spoke, he actually seemed to be telling the truth and Rob knew how thin his case was. Even he wasn't convinced Harvey was the one but was hoping to get lucky. Maybe the guy was innocent. But… "So who would you suggest I speak to about getting this under control?"

Harvey laughed out loud. "You're asking me? Jesus, you really are stumbling in the dark on this. 'Somebody hitting a little too close to home for your comfort, boy?" He stood up. "Now, this has been a charming distraction but, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure there's lots for me to be doing in my cell." The guards opened the door, ready to escort him back to solitary. "Don't be a stranger, now."

'_We've heard that our littlebat was under the mistaken impression that we are a hardened criminal out to steal his secrets and all of that. Well, we love secrets as much as anyone, but __hardened__ criminal? We can't go that far. It's just that when a wealth of information falls into our lap, we can hardly be expected to turn a blind eye, can we?'_

"That's not like you, Dick, you've never accused someone with no real evidence or anything before. I mean, there's a difference between a hunch and a stab in the dark, y'know?"

"Okay, maybe it wasn't Two-Face, but I'll find whoever it is."

Wally shrugged. "Why does this bother you so much? You usually just let this kind of crap roll off your back."

"You mean aside from the fact that it's illegal to violate medical confidentiality and it's annoying?"

Wally pulled another slice from the pepperoni box. "C'mon, this is part and parcel of the gig. You know that better than anyone, Robbie, lighten up about it."

He did know this, in fact he'd been raised with it but this time it was getting under his skin and the more he thought about it, the more he began to understand why it was bugging him so much. It was the fact that someone was doing this just to be obnoxious. Sure, they were making money out of it as well, but it was like he and his friends were being lumped in with the latest starlets getting drunk at some club or getting into a DUI while underage or just generally being the kind of superficial jerks you always see in the tabs.

It was not only untrue, but was hurting their reputations and that was hurting their effectiveness against the criminals they were trying to stop. If they lost respect or the belief that they were doing the right things for the right reasons, if the heroes became just another slice of the cult of celebrity and were in the same category as Paris and Lindsay then there was no reason for anyone to pay any more attention to their work than to the latest movie or hot TV show.

When the Titans and the JLA became just another neato-keano reality show played out on the evening news, they were diminished.

"Rob, what's the big deal? I mean, really."

"It's not good for us to become media stars, Wally—when signing autographs becomes a bigger focus than fighting crime, when that line blurs we lose credibility."

_'So whenwhenwhen will our babybat admit that he's more than okay with being a heart throb for a wider audience than just the teeny-boppers and their older sisters and mothers? If you know what I mean. In fact, darlin' give me a call—any time.'_

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**File Stealing Part Three**

"I can't believe you just walked into Arkham and questioned Two-Face like that without even a shred of real evidence. What the hell was going through your brain?"

Dick knew what he was doing, he did. He just wanted Bruce to lay off right now and let him get on with it. If what he had in mind worked then he'd have the real thief soon enough. He was handling this. He was. "It's fine, Bruce. You'll see."

"I damn well hope so."

'_So our little batbirdboy seems to have made a bit of a misstep when he knocked on Two-Face's door to ask if he might be the one selling insider info to the less than stellar member of the press. Oops, sorry, Batlad, but that's not our sources which are—as you know—protected by our ever-lovin' constitution. _

_But let's address the larger issue here, shall we kiddies? We're not oblivious to the suggestion that what we do when we publish personal information is less than savory and may have some long-term repercussions. 'Praps the suggestion even has some merit, but let's face the facts here, shall we? _

_We didn't seek out these little bits of info; we were the ones who were simply on the receiving end of an offer we didn't initiate. We didn't pay for this info—we swear, not a dime exchanged hands. No one is accusing any of our costumed heroes—whom we really do hold in the highest of the highest respect—of anything nasty, unless you think them having sex lives is nasty, in which case we suggest you seek therapy or find your self a cloister._

_Is publishing these things harming their work of ridding the world of baddies?_

_Really?_

_How? You tell me. _

_So take yourselves a great big chill pill and let's all just sit back and enjoy the show, shall we?'_

Dick was searching the Internet again, the third time today, looking for more leaks surfacing. In fact it wasn't the garbage which bothered him, it was the few items which told the truth and could lead to real problems which had him concerned and determined to put a stop to this. That article a few weeks ago about GL and was a good example. It had him picking up whores and drunk women in bars; hardly the truth when you knew Kyle.

The stuff about him, the old rumors about him and Bruce, hell—he'd heard them so many times in the last ten years or so that he was past caring, even though they were garbage.

But, and this was the point, add them all up together and they painted a picture of lies and mistruths which cost the Heroes credibility.

'_So we've all heard that cats like milk and cream, but may we suggest that the Catlady (modesty forbids me from giving her obvious nickname…) likes fresh, well, whipped cream and seems to prefer that it come from jail—jail bait that is._

_Now we all them young and virile, but we do try to make sure that they're at least legal._

_Just a word to the wise._

_Meeoooow!'_

"Okay, Two-Face was a misstep, I know that but this time I'm on the right trail."

Bruce looked up from his paper. "And?"

"Selina. It makes sense; she's jealous of me because she wants you to herself. Plus she knows this will get her attention while causing me embarrassment—it has her fingerprints all over it."

Bruce shook his head. "She's in London, has been for weeks."

"'Doesn't matter where she is."

"And you're not the only one being targeted."

"I know that but I'm the main one and it's closing in on me more every week."

Bruce turned and gave Dick a look. "Yes, but I think you're taking this much too personally. You're losing perspective about this."

"But it is personal—don't you get that? It _is_ a personal attack against me."

"Dick…"

He grabbed his jacket and keys. "Forget it. I'm solving this and I'm going to stop her."

'_Well if this isn't just the cat's whiskers. Our lil bird has been telling us that Babybat has gotten his manties in a knot about our little stories about him and all we can say about that is we think someone needs to take a step back and a big breath at the same time._

_No harm's done, nothing personal and get over yourself, baby—you know we love you!_

_Now, count to ten with us and repeat… 'No big deal, no big deal, no big deal…_

_But on a related topic, we all know cats like to catch small rodents and play for a while, right? Be careful little birdie._

_Some cats have claws and bite.'_

Dick landed at Heathrow at about seven in the morning, picked up the rental and headed over to Selina's flat in Notting Hill. Not only was she home, but she was waiting for him.

"Purrfectly lovely to see you again, my favorite little kitten. Do come in."

The paparazzi waiting on the corner snapped off a series of pictures recording the visit. They were posted on the Internet within half an hour, along with a live stream video of her front door on two sites.

Inside the two old adversaries sat with tea and calmly discussed the situation. "Well yes, of course we all hate the intrusions into our private lives-it wasn't like this when we were all just getting started. Remember how outraged people were when some rag published those pictures of you picking your nose when you were nine? Half the public thought it was cute and half thought that you should be left alone to be a normal child; something I happened to agree with."

"I remember that; I was so embarrassed I think I stayed in my room for three days. The paps left me alone for a while, though."

Yes, well they wouldn't now and you know that as well as I do, Robbie. By the way, why didn't Batman come along with you? I miss his—tell him that. Will you?"

"You can tell him yourself, Selina. So we're set with everything? You're good with this?"

She laughed as she stretched, leaning a little too close to Robin for comfort. "Ready? I've been looking forward to this since you called me!" They both rose and went to the back door, opening it. Rob stood on the back stoop, his hand on Catwoman's waist, both of her hands on his shoulders as she pulled him close and gave him a lingering kiss goodbye—all caught by the two photographers waiting behind the low wall.

'_Wellwellwell. Just when you think you've seen everything you find out you're wrong. We enclose the following pictures (scroll down after the jump) and let them speak for themselves; you know what they say about a picture being worth a thousand words, well—we'd say this is worth at least an entire short story of the Harlequin and Barbara Cartland variety!_

_It seems our Babybat is growing up faster than we thought and though we're thrilled for him (in a vicarious way, of course, dammit!) we have to ask him just what he's thinking getting quite so close to the comely but definitely crossed over to the dark side damsel._

_Does Daddybat know? Heavens knows we tried to warn you, honeybatbunny._

_It might be past time to sit this boy down for a talking to, maybe?_

_And on a less entertaining note, we understand that several of the Titans are continuing ongoing therapy sessions to deal both with the stress of their day to day crime busting activities and the down side of spending so much of their lives battling the baddies put to destroy life as we know it here on the Big Blue Planet._

_We all know the argument that kids should be allowed to be kids and we have to agree that charging into the galactic fray doesn't always allow time for high school football and proms._

_C'mon guys—take a little 'me' time, okay?'_

Garth was on the surface for the first time in a couple of months, having been kept busy by Arthur dealing with whatever he had to deal with. Usually this happened when His Royal Majesty decided to fob off some unpleasant part of his job but you never knew—maybe he just wanted to sleep late or something. Garth walked into the Tower in the middle of yet another emotional blowout from his old friends.

"I can't frigging believe this; how frigging irresponsible can these a-holes be, anyway? I mean, cripes!"

"Roy, calm down, will you, this isn't getting us anywhere. What's the problem here?"

"What's the problem? The problem, Ms I'm Perfect and Never Lose My Cool, is that this frigging rag not only published the fat that I have a daughter but had the supreme stupidity to publish her picture in full color. A-holes."

"But Roy…"

"AND they didn't even have the courtesy, the damn professionalism to call me to check on the story first to see if it's even true. A-holes."

Garth leaned his damp butt against the back of the couch; listening and wondering what he'd just walked into. "Has something happened?"

Roy glared and stalked out of the room, leaving Donna to explain. "We've been having a problem with the sleazy part of the media following us around and printing insinuations and half-truths about us. The Enquirer just called to ask Roy if it's true that he has an illegitimate daughter with an International terrorist."

"And they're printing photographs as well, I take it." Donna nodded. "And so he's concerned about Lian's security?" Another nod.

"You can't blame him."

"No, I suppose not but why would they do such a thing, endangering an infant like that? It doesn't seem right."

Sweet, naïve Garth. "No, it's not right; that's why he's so upset." She smiled at him, he was so unsure of himself here on the surface, but she'd seen him down in Atlantis and it was like seeing a different person—confident, self-assured, in command. Maybe he'd get to that point up here as well. "He's worried about her safety. You know there are a lot of nuts out there and if one of them tried to kidnap her for some kind of ransom or tried to get revenge for what her mother did by hurting Lian, well—it would be horrible."

Garth looked surprised. "You mean the surface laws allow a child's picture to be published when there's a chance of such a thing happening? That's insane."

"A lot of people would agree with you, but it's freedom of the press. It's a hard line to draw."

"Yes, but the safety of a child…I don't understand. The stories about the others could be embarrassing, but this is potentially life threatening. It doesn't seem right, does it?"

"I'm sure Roy would agree with you."

'_Wellwellwell, check out that above picture. It seems that we were right about bats and cats. Put that in your pipe and smoke it._

_Round and round it goes and where it stops nobody knows…'_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**File Stealing Part Four**

"Look, I'm telling you—we gotta stop this or we're gonna get screwed and not in a good way."

"You worry too much."

"I mean it, man—I heard that some of the Titan kids are really pissed about some of their personal stuff getting out. I think we oughta lay low for a while."

"You scared of a bunch of punk kids?"

"I'm scared of _these_ punk kids and if you had a brain in yer head you'd be scared, too."

"Yeah, yeah. Get that tape, willya? And that disk while yer're at it."

"This is the last night. I swear to God, this is it."

"Yeah, sure it is."

'_So our lil bird told us something that has our head aspinnin'. Now we all know that Batman and Robin are closerthanthis but there are some details coming out that make us just a little creeped out._

_It seems that our favorite babybird seems to be own little Oliver Twist and lost his own parents in some kind of horrible accident while he was still in the parental nest. According to the cheep-cheep we heard, the poor baby was even a witness to Mom and Dad's demise. _

_Horrible and we aren't kidding about that even a little._

_For reasons we've yet to learn, no family or friends stepped up to the plate and so the poor darlin finally ended up staying under the tutorledge of the Bat himself._

_Mental picture, please—small traumatized child, seriously disturbed crime obsessed adult. No wonder the baby sprouted elf shoes and a cape and does what he does._

_The question, natch, is to ask whether it was his own idea or if he just kind of joined the family business and just __what__ did all that training consist of? Now we all know B&R work closely with the Gotham City boys in blue, but has anyone over at headquarters ever asked the questions that needed to be raised?_

_If not, we think they should be, no?_

_Just who's keeping tabs on 'things'?_

_And since we don't know babybat's real age, he may still be a minor, in which case, well…all we're saying is that maybe someone should check this out._

_Toot sweet.'_

"No, don't respond to this garbage. You know what this is, we've been through it before; they're just trying to get us to swing in the dirt. Ignore it."

"I know Bruce, it's not like I'm new to this, okay?" Dick played with his mashed potatoes, drawing some design with his fork and gravy.

"So how did the visit with Selina go? She agree to what you asked?"

"Yeah, sure. She also made a point of telling me she misses you."

Bruce sipped his wine. "Thank you." That was all, just a flat 'thank you'. Dick knew he'd be calling London as soon as they finished eating.

"There's another problem I learned about this afternoon. Donna called me and said someone stole a laptop belonging to Roy's shrink. 'Happened yesterday as far as we can tell."

Bruce actually turned his head to stare at Dick. "You're not serious."

"We're looking for it, should recover it soon enough…"

"Soon enough to stop leaks, I hope."

Alfred placed the dishes of ice cream in front of them after removing the dinner plates. "Everything is encrypted and password protected. It should be okay."

"How did this happen and do you know if it was targeted or a random theft?"

"No, we don't know but it was probably random since the guy's car was hit while parked at some mall—a Mercedes with an expensive computer sitting on the back seat. Stupid, but there you go. They also got his GPS, CD player and hub caps."

"Forgiver me. Sirs, but there may be yet another item you need to concern ourselves with, if you would be so kind as to join me."

"What's that, Alfred?"

The three men went to Bruce's study, just down the hall and checked out the gossip blog with the report of Dick's being an orphan and his supposedly questionable adoption or whatever this guy was referring to it as.

"Jesus."

"Where did this come from; that stolen laptop? Is there a leak in the sealed court records and—Christ!—this means that whoever is leaking the information either has our identities or is a very short step away."

Dick just stared at the screen; this was a nightmare. This was what they were afraid of; this was what they were trying to protect at all costs.

In a way it was almost inevitable that the information would come out at some point, but how the hell did this happen? He'd known all along that there was a chance that the link would be made between Batman and Robin and Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson, but he also held onto the hope that, somehow, it wouldn't really happen.

"Dick, is there any chance that Roy would have had reason to talk about our identities to his psychologist?"

"I don't know, maybe. If he was asked about his friends and all of that, if he answered questions about his motivations to become Speedy and join the Titans, maybe—I guess it could happen, but I really think he's smarter than that."

"You'd stake your life on it?"

"I've done it before. Look, I'll call him and ask him what he said to the shrink, then we'll get a subpoena to bring in that blogger and see if he'll answer questions about his sources. Or maybe we should just drop in and have a chat with him."

Bruce nodded. "You call Roy, I'll find out where this idiot will be this evening."

"Fine."

'_So I'm worriedworriedworried about our favorite little Batboy and you all know why, don't you?_

_Little Orphan Robin—my God, I'm weeping as I write this—watches his parents be killed right in front of him and so he's 'saved' by the Big Bad Bat. That's enough to cause anyone to have nightmares, don'tcha think?_

_From out little bird we've heard that Babybat is the sweetest thing you've ever met—beautiful as the day is long and smart as a whip as well with all good manners and—golly!—we've all seen he can hold his own in a bathing beauty contest, haven't we?_

_All in all, we'd say he's the whole package and we mean that in the nicest way, of course. _

_Now the problem, as we all know, is that he's supposed to have this deep dark secret identity like a lot of our favorite heroes and we __understand__ that, we really do._

_But, and here's the rub, is this really what's best for our favorite babyboy? Think about it, shall we? He's out night after night, year after year battling the biggest baddies and working in what no one could call safe, happy conditions with a man who's, at best, a little loosely wrapped. Yes, indeedy, he does have the entire Justice League watching his charming butt, but whence goes his childhood?_

_When does our Babybat get to run and play with the other kiddies? When does he get to watch a school football game or spend a day sitting on a beach or chasing the young ladies (assuming it's young ladies he chooses to chase)? Who makes sure our Babyboy has some time to sit and watch the clouds or do whatever it is youngsters raised with a sense of responsibility and a brain do in their down time? _

_One can't spend all their time saving mankind, can they?_

_Seriously—and we're being serious for a moment—when do these kids get to be kids? Who watches out for them and I don't mean the other guys and gals in spandex. Are there any people out there keeping tabs on these oh so precious babies?_

_We can't be the only ones who've wondered about this, are we?'_

"Batman? We need to discuss what's going on in the media. I assume you've seen it."

"Yes, Commissioner, I have and you know as well as I do that Robin and the rest of the sidekicks are all carefully watched and are under close supervision at all times."

Jim Gordon shifted the phone, taking it off of speaker as he sat back down at his desk. "I'm aware of that but the press is getting out of control about this. If it were just a few of these gossip fellows we'd ignore it, but it's been picked up by the mainstream outlets. I've just been informed that Time's cover story next week will be about the safety and sense of having these young kids out there in the field."

Bruce put his coffee cup down. Dammit, this was getting ridiculous. "What do you suggest; a statement, a press conference?"

"Yes, perhaps. I think we also have to open the windows a little, let people know who these kids are, why they have the go-ahead to do what they do, how they fit it all in with their regular lives and all of that."

"You're not suggesting that we reveal their identities, are you?"

"Of course not, but I think it's important that we show that there isn't anything to hide—especially in light of the allegations regarding you taking Robin in after his family was killed."

Jesus. "That's another question I have—how did the press get ahold of that bit of information? The obvious security breach…"

"Yes, I know and I have our best people on it. So, you'll agree to talking to the press?"

Like hell he would. "I'll make a statement."

"Good."

'_So we've been talking to our little birdie again and all we can say is that we'll have some real goss to discuss tomorrow so don't go anywhere, kiddies! This may blow off a few lids and that's all you're getting from us today.'_

"Who is this?"

"Robin. Look, you know that idea I had? Well, it's going to be delayed."

"Cancelled?"

"No, just delayed. I'll let you know when it's a go. 'Shouldn't be too long, maybe a few days or a week."

"Any reason in particular?"

"I'm setting things up on this end. Don't worry, it's all falling into place. We should have him dead to rights by the time we're ready to move."

"Well, you know it still sounds purrrrrfect to me."

TBC

5


	5. Chapter 5

**File Stealing Part Five**

'_Goss you want and goss we got._

_The latest little tidbit about our Babybat makes us weep for joy just to know that the darlin' thing is human, after all._

_We have it on the bestest of authority that while he may be super-kid (no offense to the Kryptonians amongst us), he's still a teenager. It seems that he was in the Batmobile with Mr. Bat himself, just about to power up and head back to the Batbarn after a night of Batcrimebusting when the following was overheard coming from the Batcockpit;_

'_All I asked was if you finished your homework.'_

'_Of course I finished my stupid homework, will you just give it a rest.'_

'_You know that of your grades ship…'_

'_I know, you lock me up till I die. I get it, will you lighten up?'_

'_And you've been slacking off on your workouts, as well.'_

'_Jesus, I'm ranked in the top five gymnasts in the world!'_

'_I'm simply pointing out that with some work you could be number one.'_

''_Better than you'll ever be.'_

_This is where Mr. Bat saw our little bird standing beside the car, getting all this down so hit drive and practically flew to whatever passes for the Bathome._

_But—it's nice to see that our favorite Babybat has some spunk, as it were.'_

"So who was this informant supposedly eavesdropping on that argument? Did you recognize him?"

Dick kept his eyes on the computer in front of him. The Titans had managed to recover the stolen laptop and he was trying to find out if it had been hacked or not. It was easier said than done. "No, I didn't know who he was, did you?"

Bruce shook his head. "Any luck with that?"

Dick shrugged. "Hard to tell but I think we're dealing with more than one source for all this gossip and leaks that are getting out."

"What makes you think that?"

"Simply because I think it's stretch that any one person would have that many contacts or that much access to that many of us. I mean Roy, Donna, Me—we've all had things that were supposed to be secret and classified leaked in the last few weeks."

"Like?"

"Donna and her problems, Roy and Lian, me and my parents." He said the last without emotion.

"Maybe, it makes sense. Anything definite?"

"Close but not yet." Dick stretched and tried to get the tension out of his neck and shoulders. "I'm starting to suspect that there may be a bunch of known—or unknown—bad guys working for a central man. Or woman."

"What about the hints about your background? You know as well as I do that the barebones of the story can be googled and then it's just a matter of time before someone puts Dick Grayson together with Robin. I'm worried about that—we've always known it was possible that our identities would get out, but the repercussions could be disastrous for us."

"It's under control."

"I'd like to know how."

Dick gave Bruce his signature grin, the one he used when he was about to come up with one of his famously bad puns. "Holy crapshoot, Batman—it's all gonna turn out swell!"

'_Word has it that some of the baby Titans and I mean the actual progeny, not just the younger members, darlings, should be kept under closer watch than usual. My little birdie tells me that some real bad baddies may have designs on them and that ain't good.'_

"Hey Roy, you see this?" Wally held out the printout of the blogger's latest piece of crap. "I called Linda, she's taking the twins to the lockdown to make sure nothing happens to them, you might want to do the same with Lian." They were in the rec room of the Tower, hanging out, waiting for something to happen they might be needed for or, failing that, someone to decide what to order for dinner.

Roy skimmed the paper, worried but not wanting to show it. "I think she'll be okay, I mean she's here."

"Well, sure, but she's still like two years old ad we're not always around to protect her, y'know? Hey, your choice, but I'm not leaving my kids to just sit at home."

"You sayin' I'm a bad father?" Roy could get a little prickly about that, knowing it wasn't true but given his rep for responsibility…

"No, didn't say that, just said that there's a possible threat and so you might want to take some extra precautions, that's all." He turned to leave, "You're choice, man, do whatever you think's best." And he was gone.

Screw it, he was probably right and you couldn't be too careful when you had an infant. Okay, fine. "Hey Rob? I'm taking Lian to the lockdown till this is over; be back in a while."

"Good idea. Who's babysitting?"

"I think Linda is doing it since the twins are on their way."

Robin nodded. "Good. Make sure all the security systems are set and I'll let the JLA to know just to be on the safe side."

Roy was gathering up toys, formula and extra clothes to stuff in the already filled diaper bag. "That's the side I like to be on."

* * *

Bruce stared at the monitor; this was one of his worst nightmares finally coming true. He knew it was a matter of time before it happened and here it was but—damn.

According to reports, seemingly reliable, several of the well-known criminals were joining forces to take over and eventually split up various cities into 'turfs'. Two-Face, Selina—Catwoman—Scarecrow and Joker were teaming up to take down the various local police departments and divvy up Gotham, New York, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Boston and planned to expand out to Chicago and the twin cities with Atlanta, Miami and the Twin Cities in line down the road.

The gossip items, the slow eroding of their reputations was just the first salvo in softening up the Titans and the JLA.

And what game was Selina playing with Dick if his was what she was up to? Lulling him into a false sense of security because he thought they were working together and on the same page? Dammit—he wasn't used to dealing with a woman like her and he didn't mean that as sexist as it seemed. He was kid; he wasn't used to playing this kind of game and this was wasn't the way for him to learn.

"Have you checked that crappy blog?"

Bruce didn't bother to look over as Dick walked down the cave stairs. "I take it there's something to see?"

'_So it seems that some of those oh-so-clever kiddies on the computers—you know the ones, the kids who can do anyanyanything with computer?—well, it seems that these clever little boots are googling any one and everyone who has even the slightest chance of being one of the Batman or Robin duo just to see what they can come up with coincidence-wise. _

_Let's talk, shall we?_

_Lives in or near Gotham. Check._

_Tall, well-built man and young cohort who may or may not co-reside with the older gent. Check. _

_Age range between 25-40 and around 13-17? Check._

_Athletic. Check._

_Intelligent. Check._

_Did we mention__ very __athletic? Check._

_Interest in do-gooding. Check._

_Interest, __specifically__, in crime fighting, truth, justice and the American way. Check._

_Access to some major fun toys and the mega funds to acquire said toys. Check._

_Did we mention having __serious__ money? Check._

_Reason to have interest in crime fighting—past trauma, perhaps? Check._

_Possible past crime victim—either our heroes or perhaps a family member or close friend? Check._

_Connections with __everyone__ to learn __everything__ about __everyone__? Check._

_Really__ a lot of money? Check._

_Some kind of cover identity to blend in and divert suspicion? Check._

"You think he's really onto something or just stating the obvious?"

Bruce shook his head; "It could go either way. We've known for years that there aren't that many people who could fit the basic requirements of Batman and Robin; he's just laid them out like ducks in a row."

"So I gathered." Dick hated being patronized and this felt like it. "And…?"

"And so we don't comment and let anyone who wants to spin their wheels. It's not the first time people have tried to figure out who we are and it won't be the last. Leave it alone, sooner or later the interest will wane."

"Bad pun and I don't think that it will—and even if it does I think it's just a matter of time before we're revealed."

Bruce gave a small shrug; he couldn't be bothered. "And when and if that happens we have plans in place to deal with it. Don't worry about it. Wally and Roy moved the kids out of harms way, right?"

"This morning, yes."

"Good because there's something else I discovered while I was working on the computer a while ago."

'_Now you know we can't tell you how we know, but our little birdie insists that Robin—that sweetheart!—used to be a professional child performer and while he wasn't as well known as a Lindsay Lohan or a Jodie Foster, he was up there in his specialty and those in the know have long suspected that he grew up (if you consider a mid-teenager to be grown up) to be Robin. How do they know? Because he has moves no one else does and he's been recognized. No—not those moves, minds out of the gutter, kiddies—I mean all hose backflips and zigging and zagging he's oh so good at._

_So, if he looks like someone you may have seen once upon a time, sans mask—well, could be, darlins', could very well be.'_

"Crap.

"Yeah."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**File Stealing Part Six**

"Calm down, Bruce All I'm saying is that if you want the JLA to help, you know we're here for you."

He took a beat to breathe before snapping out a retort. "I know that, thanks Clark, but we're handling it for now."

Clark scanned the latest blogs and tabloids, doubtful. This looked like it was headed to some kind of climax and he wasn't convinced the Batclan had it as controlled, as Bruce seemed to believe. He'd keep an eye on this; if Batman and Robin's identities were exposed it put the League in the same danger through association, as well as the rest of the Titans. If the kids were known, then it could easily lead to their mentors and then things would get complicated.

"Fine, but we're watching this."

Bruce didn't say anything as Clark left.

'_So we understand that the younguns are all oh so dedicated to the path of the good and righteous, but we'd like to just take a peek at the paths which has lead them there._

_First of all, our little birdie has let us know that leader-lad Robin came to embrace this part of his young life due to the loss of his family—tragic and we mean that, honeybuns._

_Kiddie Flash? As we are to understand, he's following in the family business, as it were, if you get our drift._

_Speedy? A bit of a bumpy path—not sure how he hooked up with the big bad Green Arrowman but we all know that hasn't been all sweetness and light if those nasty drug rumors are to be believed and we think they are._

_Wonder Girl? Not sure, but wouldn't you leave a secluded island filled with just the fairer sex if you decided you liked a good strong man in your life? We know we would!_

_And the Aquababy…wellwellwell, who knows what's going on with that or why but I don't get the feeling Mr. Aquaman is exactly what anyone would call the soft, nurturing, warm and fuzzy type. I think I might swim away, too. _

_And the (mostly) gents they ended up with? Mymymy. _

_The Big Bad bat? Yikes! Would anyone really want to face __that__ over the breakfast table??_

_Flashguy? Okay, I guess, if you can get him to stand still for a millisecond._

_Wonder Woman? Hubba-hubba-hubba and yowza! Maybe 'comes on a bit strong but then there are those who like a real Rosie the Riveter type, but I know she'd scare me to __death!_

_And last but hardly least, King Aquadude. Cold fish? Y'think? 'Nuff said._

_Now, we know this doesn't take into account other folks who are probably in these kids lives and we hope—we really do—that the others are as warm and fabulous-o as anyone could hope for. But when you add up all these kids are expected to do; school (they __do__ go to school don't they?), chores like taking out the garbage and staying up on every weirdo crime crazy you can think of, well—goodness, when do these sweethearts have time to draw breath?_

_But seriously, and we mean this seriously; who exactly is watching over these exceptional kids? Who's making sure they get their milk and cookies at night and who's making sue that their too many broken bones and sprains are taken care of when needed?_

_Has anyone ever set up any kind of standards for these youngsters? Are there any age limits? Didn't Robbiebabybird first appear when he was like maybe none or ten years old?_

_Nuts? _

_We think so and we've asked these questions before but we're still waiting for answers from someone in the Batknow. _

_Anyone out there?'_

Robin put the cell phone back in his pocket; he'd just spent a good ten minutes talking with Selina. She was miffed, angry, pissed and really cheesed off by the way things were going and it wasn't—thank God—about anything he'd done. Actually he hadn't done much of the talking; his ear was still ringing by the volume of her rant. Venting, that's what it was.

"She all right?"

"Thank God she's on the other side of the Atlantic."

Bruce smiled; he was used to her but she never was easy to get along with, at least not for long. "Everything on track?"

"So far, should be fine."

Bruce was still in the dark about what Dick had up his sleeve, was curious and knew better than to ask. "'Need any help with anything?"

"No, should be good, thanks. Oh—you mind if I use the extra line to set up a conference call in about an hour?"

Odd. "No problem; you want any help with that?"

"No, I'm good."

Oh for the love of…Bruce stopped himself, Dick was playing with him, toying and he wondered if that was something he'd picked up from hanging around Selina; not that he was about to ask. "Good, then I'll leave you to it."

* * *

"Okay, everybody on, you can all hear me?" Rob got the verbal nods. "Good, we're all set—Selina's coming into Gotham tonight, Harvey was in place and Jonathan was on a temporary supervised (_very_ closely supervised) leave from Arkham and set to play his part. Any questions?"

"Yes, I was wondering when we get the paperwork you promised."

"As soon as we're done and we're all sure there are no problems."

"I think we all understand the rules puurrfectly, but aside from your very sweet word, what guarantee do we have you're not planning on toying with us? I'm not on the plane yet, you know."

Robin used his batvoice, learned at the cape of the master, himself. "You have my word and you have the promise of the Chief Appeals judge for the state of New York, anything else?"

"No, no, that should do—just so long as you understand that if you double-cross us we won't forget it."

Robin rolled his eyes. Heavy-handed, much? "You play square with me, I'll play square with you. We're all getting what we want out of this…"

"Assuming your plan works, that is." Harvey always was one to see both side of things.

"It will. We all get what we want and you all get either reductions of your existing sentences or partial pardons."

Jonathan Crane joined in; "And you get a great big feather in you hat, right?"

Idiot. "I get to have one of the worst criminals on the planet off the streets for a long time, that's what I get out of this."

"And you may just earn yourself a chance for some Tomcatting, if you play your catnip right, sweetie." She was laughing; not that he minded being teased so long as that was all it was. She just really wasn't his type, what with being a major wanted fugitive and all of that.

But, "I'll hold you to it, Selina. No other questions? Good. It's all set for ten o'clock. You all know where."

'_Am I the only one who read those leaked medical records that are supposed to be from my favorite Babybat? Made me shudder and that's a fact._

_I've asked before and I'll ask again—who is watching these babies?_

_And another thing—now we all know that education is a fabulouso thing to have so can anyone explain to me why out Brightbabyboy is thinking about skipping college? Does anyone really think he's not too, too smart to miss out on a high education?_

_You get your hind tail feathers back to studying those schoolbooks, youngster! We want what's best for you, young man and that's a fact._

_You know—or you certainly should!—that you'll never get a good job without a college degree. _

_My good God—what am I saying? This is our baby Robinbird we're talking about here. This boy could make a __too__ good living just standing on a corner in Gotham and letting people bask in the sunshine of his __gorgeous__ smile and that's no lie…and I mean even with his clothes on!_

_Sweetbabybird—you do whatever makes you happy and you can tell the Batguy for me that you gotta do what you gotta do!'_

"Dick, will you be back in time for patrol tonight?"

He paused while pulling on his gloves. "I doubt it, you may as well start without me."

"…Would you like some help?"

"Thanks, but I should be okay." He didn't tell Bruce that he had Clark on call just in case the Titans got into a bad situation, but he really didn't think it would be necessary.

"Well, you have your communicator is you change your mind."

Dick nodded; knowing Bruce was dying to ask and restraining himself. He was torn between thinking that he'd somehow managed to prove himself as ready to fly on his own and wondering if he was being given enough rope to hang himself. Either way, it was probably going down tonight.

'_And so we were just sitting watching Gone With the Wind on our TV when we heard something which almost broke our heart._

_It seems that our favoritest Babybat is a teenaged father—shades of Jamie Lynn! Honest Injun and we aren't kidding cause we heard it from our best singing bird and this is the source of all sources._

_It seems he was a little careless about a year and a half ago and you know what that leads to, don't you?_

_Furthermore, we heard that the Big Bad Bat was so peeved at his protégé that he's had the lad on the tightest lease you ever heard of (poor darlin' but one oops per customer, if you know what we mean). We hear he's even prevented from hanging out with his best buds, the Teen Titans. Sure, he's been seen with them, but never for long and never too often the last year or so._

_We guess that the pattern of little bat wings is taking up lots of his time and may also explain why he's not all that in a hurry to attend the Ivy Covered Walls of college quite yet._

_So now we're asking when the wedding is—or __was__ it already?'_

Roy looked up from the monitor. "Hey Robbie—you keeping secrets from your old friends now?"

"Hmm?" Dick was distracted, refilling his utility belt for the evening's outing.

"According to this you have a kid and might be married. This true or is it bullshit?"

He walked the three steps over to the computer desk and looked over Speedy's shoulder, read, raised an eyebrow and made sure he had the Bat Oxygen Mask with a full charge. "Everyone ready?"

"Dick?" The other Titans exchanged looks.

"C'mon, let's go."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Stealing Files Part Seven**

Catwoman, Two-Face and Scarecrow entered the selected warehouse at the agreed upon time, back up and their own security people making sure everything went as they'd all planned.

"If you two gentlemen would be so good as to trying to be a little less a noisy it would suit me purrfectly, thank you."

"Of course, my dear, anything to please a lady." Harvey Dent 'accidentally' tripped, causing her to stumble ever so slightly.

Jonathan Crane had enough of the squabbling between his two erstwhile cohorts. "If you two would please contain yourselves, I'd be a lot happier, thank you."

The made their way to the front door, such as it was—a large sliding metal loading dock entrance posted over with graffiti and 'post no bills' decals. It moved easily, well oiled, dented and in better condition than it looked.

The meeting had been arranged almost a month ago, the earliest anything could be set up, considering the busy schedules of everyone involved—the ones who weren't in jail or an asylum, anyway.

"When is he supposed to be here with his friends?"

"When he gets here, we've been over this."

"I don't trust him or any of them; this smells like a set up to me."

"Then leave. Arkham will welcome you back with opened arms."

"Pass, thanks."

The place was suprisingly well lit without the usual dark corners and cobwebs one comes to expect with these kinds of places. There was a conference table with comfortable looking chairs in a cleared spot between high walls of cartons and containers. Coffee carafes and catered sandwiches were arranged on a platter. All in all, it was acceptable and looked more like a corporate meeting than what it really was; though that might not be a bad description, when you came down to it.

'_Sorrysorrysorry to have top report that our little Speedyboy seems to have fallen off the straight and narrow-arrow path, poor dear. Let's just say that he's well named—and was seen by my informants hanging out with some serious baddies down at the park making what looked very much like a drug deal and I don't mean as a cop. Don't do it, Speedbump—we're worried about you, hon.'_

"Ah, right on time—I always love good manners in business dealings. 'So polite!"

The other three invitees looked up from their places; he was here.

"Good evening Joker; always a pleasure to see you."

The cackle was a little too loud, as usual, the eyes a little too bright to look sane. "And I'm thrilled to think that we'll all be best friends from now on!" He was clapping his hands as he went to stand at the head of the table. "And you all trust me enough to come without any of your little henchlings or toadies—what fun!"

"We all agreed to meet without our usual back up, Joker, we're just doing what we said we would."

His demeanor changed in an instant to melancholy. "Yes, it's all puurrrfect as you would say, my dear." He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "Shall we have at this? We all work together to rule the world!" The last rose phrase in pitch until he was shouting. "Madame Cat shall have her lovely way with Europe, Master Scarecrow will do as he wishes with the Western and Central United States and both of Harvey's Faces shall rule the East Coast with an iron fist in a velvet gauntlet. Wonderful!"

"And what will you be doing, Joker? That's the part I'm not too clear on." Harvey Dent didn't look pleased but seemed patient enough to wait for more details.

"Oh—well, I'll be ruling the rest of the world—It's all mine!" He was just so pleased wit the thought. "Oh, and you shall—what's the word?—of course! You shall tithe fifty percent of whatever you accrue to me as tribute. I assume you're all good with that?"

'_We can't say who, but one of our favorite costumed good-guys is under treatment for two different and very nasty STD's, poor baby. That's just no fun at all and all we can say is that we hope he has the good sense to, shall we say?—keep things covered up when he goes out to play, if you know what we mean. We also hope he has the even better sense to drop a word to the wise with his recent playmates. Believe us, we __hate__ when this happens to us and we can only assume our heroes get just as cranky.'_

Joker jumped up, circling the table. "I have it all worked out—we'll all run or personal fiefdoms anyway we want but we'll be like a fraternity—best friends!—we'll all be there in case one of us has one of those nasty encounters with the Justice League or those Titan brats. We can have cookouts and go to the movies together—I love exchanging Christmas present—don't you? Fabulous? Questions? No? Even better!" He bent down and gave Catwoman a lingering kiss on her cheek, his hands curling around her neck a little too tightly, threateningly. "So we're all agreed?"

"Not really." Two-Face didn't look pleased. "Are you suggesting that you'll be in charge, that we'll be following your orders for some reason?"

"Lordy-lordy, no! I was just saying that this is the best way for us to do business. I mean let's be serious for a moment, shall we? Since I'm the smartest I should be the big boss, don't you think?"

Scarecrow seemed dubious, at best. "I'd like to point out that we've all run our own operations for a while now and have had some success; why should we go along with this?"

"Safety in numbers? I mean—gracious, it works for the Mafia, doesn't it?" More high-pitched laughter and hand clapping accompanied this. "It'll be fun! We'll be like the four Musketeers! Mus—_cat_—teers, get it?"

'_Ohdearlord! It seems that the Titans have been busybusysbusy and that's not always a good thing. Now we're getting reliable reports that not only is our favorite babybat a teenaged babydaddy but he also seems to like to relax after a hard day in the Batcave changing the batdiapers by tossing back a few too many cans of the evil brewski. My little birdie tells me that the Big Bat is getting __very__ concerned and is checking out various very discrete rehabs for out babybat—all very quiet and secret, of course._

_Not good, sweetbatbuns._

_And, we also hate to report that, whilst out of costume and mask, he's also been known to frequent the Gotham hotspots since w all know they tend to wink at false ID's._

_Say it ain't so, Sweetbabybat. You're making us verklempt.'_

"I don't work well with others. I say that anything we each gain—independently of the others—belongs to whoever managed to get their claws on it." Selina stretched almost lazily, gracing the men with a small and very sly smile.

Joker circled around to the table, stopping behind her chair. Gently he placed his hands on either side of her head and began squeezing slowly. "But, my beauty, you don't seem to understand. You see, unlike the Batman—whom I happen to know you've been known to curl up with, I have no compunction with killing."

The pressure on her skull increased.

"Like a cat, I guess you could say."

The pain was becoming painful.

"Don't you agree, my pet?"

Very painful.

"After all, lovely as you are, my dear, we can always find another fourth for our little bridge game we intend to play, couldn't we?"

She imagined that she could feel the separate plates of her skull shifting.

"I'd be so very upset if you decided that our little group wasn't to you liking. You can understand that, can't you? I have particularly high hopes of your helping all of us in dealing with that annoying old Batman we've all had so many run-ins and problems with. You can see how it would—disappoint—me to know you'd rather not join our little play group."

The pain was unbearable.

"You wouldn't want to be anti-social, would you?"

Selina shook her head as well as she could.

"You're sure? Because if I thought you were just saying what I wanted to hear my feelings would be terribly hurt and then I'd become upset. You know how I can be when I'm upset, don't you, dear?"

She nodded. The pressure stopped. He'd let her go. This time.

His deformed smile leered too close to her. "Oh, good. I'd have been so sad to not have you with us, you know." Joker spun and pranced back to his own seat at the head of the table. "Well, gentlemen, do either of you have any questions no that my feelings regarding insubordination are clear?"

Both Two-Face and Scarecrow ignored the stunned look on what they could see of Catwoman's face. She'd recover and if she didn't things would proceed without her.

"No questions? Wonderful! Now, I've been thinking and I feel that our first order of business should be to kill the JLA, whaddya think, guys, huh?"

Scarecrow shrugged. "Why kill them now? I think it would be better to establish our new territories and then use those bases to separate them and divide their resources; make it easier to catch them off guard."

Joker looked pained. "Well, we could do it that way, but this way we also throw the Brat Titans off their little annoying feet by killing their mentors and big brothers. Imagine their little pimply faces when they find out we've blown up that spy-n-the-sky satellite the League has up there watching us all the time. It will be fun!"

Two-face was shaking his head. "It has potential, but if we kill the kids first, the League will be easier to take down. We could hit them during the funerals—in fact, I kind of like that."

Scarecrow put his coffee cup down. "I don't want to ill any of them."

"But why on earth not? It will be _fun_!"

"Because they're the only challenge I have; if they weren't here, it would be boring."

The others stared at him in disbelief until Joker broke the silence. "In that case, my dear fellow, we'll find you a new hobby as soon as they're dead. Have you considered petit-point?"

'_The news from the hero front just keeps getting more and more depressing!_

_First of all we think that suggesting Babybat's Babymama is Wonder Girl is a piece of hooey! Good lord, people, use your eyes; the young lady has been in the public eye forever and there's no way she could have popped out a kid and still worn that costume, okay? Let's put that one to rest, shall we?_

_But then who is the mystery lady, hmmm? Natch we asked around and made thousands of calls, but no one—and we mean __no one__—would return our calls for us._

_So we did some digging on our own and—unconfirmed, of course—we think we've found the answer._

_Honest to God and hold onto your pants here kids. Ready?….._

_Jamie Lynn._

_I'm dead serious and hear me out on this one, okay?_

_They're around the same age._

_They travel at will._

_They're both two honking good-looking kids._

_They're both 'mature' for their ages._

_They were both in the city of the Angels last spring—her working on her show and him working on catching that nasty old Joker yet again._

_We've all seen the pictures of them 'accidentally' bumping into each other at both Spago's and Mr. Chow's within three days of one another._

_They're both young professionals and would have that to talk about._

_They're both from the East Side of the country (we think babybird is, anyway—and if he isn't he's living there now anyway). And you can almost consider Louisiana as East Coast. It's certainly not West Coast. _

_Jamie Lynn seems pretty reluctant to marry that homeboy she's supposed to be the other half of._

_And—the best part—neither one has issued a denial._

_So—y'think?_

TBC

6


	8. Chapter 8

**File Stealing Conclusion**

'_Wellwellwell, so it seems that as more of that dirty old laundry comes out that the vaunted Teen Titans and their big bros and mentors are looking more and more like their legs are solid clay and it's crumbling from where we're sitting._

_Let's review, shall we?_

_Robin—yes, Robin!—seems to have produced an unclaimed itsy-bitsy Batette hanging around the cave…care of the younger Ms Spears?_

_Speedy has acquired a nasty old drug habit._

_Kid Flash is the daddy of twins and, bless his heart, is denying rumors of several young ladies hanging on his string as he tugs at their hearts—much to the upset of the Mrs._

_Wonder Girl—purdy lil thing that she is—may or may not be widowed and wallowing in the deepest darkest depths of despair, poor honey child._

_And Aqualad? Let's just say that all is not well in the state of Poseidonis, if we're to believe the rumors that are flying—or floating out of Atlantis._

_Have we forgotten anyone?_

_The vaunted Green Lantern is widely considered to be the Man-slut of the universe by his co-workers. Aquaman is said to have a temper which could cause tsunamis all by itself. Batman—well, does __anyone__ think this gent is as tightly wrapped as one would wish? Wonder Woman is commonly said to be a disciple of Sapphro. Green Arrow spends waaaay too much time 'courting' Black Canary to the distress of drug addled Babyboyarrow Speedy._

_The only ones who seem to have escapes unscathed is the big man himself, Supes, and maybe the green guy—Martian Manhunter._

_Not a pretty picture from where we're sitting._

_And __these__ are the people we call our heroes?_

"Well, I told you that this would be my ball game because I'm the one with balls. Now, since there aren't any questions, shall we get in with business, gentlemen?—oops, forgive me, I mean _Lady_ and Gentlemen." Joker looked around the room, confidant and nuts as ever.

Catwoman fingered the small bump hidden in the palm of her left glove, turning on the hidden microphone linking her to Robin, letting him hear what was going on.

Scarecrow seemed unimpressed. "You know, the more that I think about it, I think I may opt out of this, if you don't mind. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding someone else to cover my spot and in the meantime I think the country can stumble along without my intervention." He stood up, his gangling body seeming to unfold from the chair.

"I think, if it's all the same to you, that I may join him. I'm terribly flattered, of course, but I'm more comfortable working alone. You understand, don't you? But we'll stay in touch and if there's ever anything you may need, just call." Two-Face started to join Scarecrow as he made his way over to the large industrial sliding door. "Catwoman, would you care to join us or do you prefer to stay?"

"Nooooooooooooo!!" The three barely looked back as Joker vented his frustration. "You said you'd be with me on this—you promised!" He seemed to be close to tears as he ran after them, grabbing Two-Face's arm and spinning him around. "You promised, you did. I heard all of you. You said we'd do this together; make a pact and control the whole world. We were even going to get Luthor to deal with Superman and everything."

Catwoman paused, dispassionate as she spoke to him. "Well, it seems that we've changed our minds, haven't we?" She continued towards the large door and was almost there when Joker hit a remote he'd hidden in one of his pockets. The door slid shut, the locks audibly engaging as it fit into the frame.

"I think not." He pulled another gadget from his pocket and palmed it, savoring the slightly startled looks on the faces of the other three. "Yes, of course it's a bomb". He answered the unasked question. "You know what they say; if you aren't part of the solution, you're part of the problem. You won't help me, then you're useless to me and I'd hate to think that there may come a time when you'd ever work against me so…" He pulled the grenade's pin, holding the trigger, delaying.

He started tossing it up and down. Toss, catch. Toss, catch. Toss, catch. Toss, stumble—almost miss, catch with his high pitched laughter as a counterpoint.

"Stop that. Put the pin back and put that think away." Scarecrow was visibly annoyed, always a bad thing. "We've had enough of this, stop what you're doing and unlock this door."

"No can do, Amigo, no can do." Toss, catch. Toss, catch. "Unless you kids all decide to change your minds, that is. You know how I've been looking forward to all of working together, don't you? Working together, playing together, having Christmas parties, celebrating birthdays, having cook outs. I have so few friends and I thought that we could, you know, hang out. 'Have movie nights, double date…"

"Joker…"

"And after all the work I've put into this—you've no idea, none! I've spent weeks, months!—working on setting up those Titan brats and the stupid Justice League, softening them up, making sure that their reputations were in the toity. I've had so much fun and I though we'd all have fun, too!" He seemed close to tears again.

Toss, catch. Toss, catch.

Two Face tried. "Let's all go sit back down and we can talk about this, work it out together. There's no need for unpleasantness."

"All this silly stories in the press? You know about them? The ones that have stupid little Robin knocking up that little chit? The ones that have his stupid friends getting into all kinds of trouble? The ones that have Green Lantern whoring around in bars? That was _me_! I was _brilliant_! I had them running around like chickens without heads—all _me_!"

Toss, catch. Toss, catch.

"We were going to have so much _fun."_

'_And that's another thing which has occurred to us peasants slaving away here at our nine-to-five grind. These superhero types; has anyone ever figured out where all the money they must have comes from? I mean __seriously__._

_I know, I know—we've been over this before, but c'mon! I should have so much spare change to play with, is all I can say._

_Now you didn't hear it from me, and that's for darn sure, but are we the only one who wonders if some folding cash may change hands under the table, if you know what I mean?_

_Tons and tons of dollars, yen, Deutschemarks, Lira and whatever else are floating around and—okay—there have never been any real serious questions about this, we think maybe it's past time to examine where all these expensive toys, equipment and costumes come from. _

_We, for one, would lovelovelove to see Batman's MasterCard bill one of these days…not to mention Babybat's latest bill over at Babies-R-Us._

_We're just saying, is all.'_

Robin led the Titans through the waterfront warehouses, knowing that time was almost up before Joker did something with the grenade—let it drop, throw it or, being Joker, maybe just disarm it.

Everyone lined up behind him, "Spread out like I told you. Speedy, you come with me, Donna, get ready to open the door, Kid Flash, back her up, Aqualad, get ready to drench everything when you get the signal—questions? No? Okay, let's do this!"

Robin and Speedy used a batarang grappling hook and a grappling arrow to get up to the roof, opening the skylight and paused half a second while Wonder Girl pulled the sliding door off its hinges. Aqualad formed a huge wave from the harbor, causing water to surge in the now large opening, sweeping everything in its path before retreating.

Swinging down through the skylight, Robin knocked Joker off his feet with the first blow, surprisingly easily until Joker caught Robin's left calf and tripped him, flinging him over and slamming his head against the floor. Somehow not losing consciousness, Rob rolled away, grabbing Joker's coat-tails and pulling him backwards as he caught himself on broken chair which immediately because a weapon in the man's skinny hands. Rob used leverage to pry it away before he could be hit in the head again but not before Joker managed to get in a couple of good kicks which hit home. The thought that a couple of ribs might have been cracked left his mind as soon as it flitted through, dismissed by the more important business at hand.

Grabbing a broken table lamp, Robin got a lucky hit in, taking Joker down and wondering where his expected henchmen were and why they weren't joining in the fight until it occurred to Robin that there weren't any underlings here tonight. No one with Two-Face, no back up for Scarecrow, No kittens for Selina and Joker seemed to be on his own-unheard of and he wondered why; not that he was complaining but what was that about? Hell, maybe Selina really came through, after all.

Jonathan Crane was starting to do his thing as powerfully as he ever had and Harvey Dent produced a gun from somewhere under his jacket. Taking cover behind a half fallen pile of large cartons, Two-Face got three shots off as Speedy hit Harvey with a knockout arrow—an oldie but still a goodie.

Where the hell had the bullets ended up? In anyone? Not tonight—their luck was holding.

Next Wally spun past almost, but not quite, too fast to see while he punched out Jonathan Crane but unfortunately not quite fast enough as the hallucinations started.

Roy was affected first, staring at a blank space along the far wall. "Lian! I'm coming, baby. Daddy's coming. Hang on, just hang on." He stumbled his way across the trashed and sodden room, trying to save his daughter, not realizing that she was safe miles away. Dick ran over, giving him an injection to knock him out long enough for them to finish the collar without distracting the other Titans from the work at hand.

Just as he was lowering Roy to the floor, he saw Donna kneeling by the upturned conference table, crying, broken hearted and whispering, choking the name 'Terry'.

Robin went over to her, holding her while her crying slowly stopped to be replaced by a stunned silence as se relived the loss of her ex-husband, though she'd somehow been spared the memory of the loss of her children.

There was no sign of Selina and the thought that she might have been knocked out by the powerful wave of water flashed through Robin's mind. It was followed by the fear she may have been drowned or was pinned somewhere in the mess of furniture and warehouse crates blocking the floor space and turning it into a maze and jumble of debris. Looking around the room, he caught Garth's eye as he made sure the three male criminals were secured. "Where's Catwoman?"

Seemingly unaffected by Scarecrow's powers of illusion and nightmare, he shook his head. "She's gone, out the skylight; she used your jumpline to climb up while we were busy on the floor. I couldn't follow her." He apologized, "I can't really climb all that well; you know how clumsy I can be on land…"

"Where's Kid Flash?"

"He was here but, Scarecrow—Wally looked frightened for a moment, said 'Linda' and was gone." Garth shrugged. With any luck, as soon as he got back to Central City and saw she was all right he'd come down from the delusion. There wasn't much they could do about it this minute but since they could hear the sirens coming closer, they knew they'd be free in a few minutes, as soon as they could turn the prisoners over for booking.

"Robbie, you're all right? Scarecrow, he didn't affect you?"

"I'm okay, Batman taught me a few tricks about that—they don't work for long, but Wally took him out fast enough that I wasn't affected. How about you?"

Garth looked a little sheepish, "I was starting to think that some fish were swept in when I brought up that wave and I was getting pretty nervous—remember how I used to be afraid of them? But I'm all right now."

"You sure?" Aqualad nodded.

The police were loading Joker, Two-Face and Scarecrow into separate squad cars for the ride down to headquarters. There would be endless amounts of paperwork to do in the next couple of days.

"You think the others will be all right?"

Dick nodded. Roy and Donna were taken by ambulance over to Star Labs for them to be treated and to allow them to come down gently. If need be, Wally would join them since Clark was keeping an eye on him as well.

"So it all worked out the way we hoped it would. Have you told Bruce yet what we were doing?"

Dick shook his head. "I will—later. There's no hurry now that it's over."

"I guess." Garth headed over to the waterfront. "I'm expected back home for a meeting in a few hours. Call if you need anything." He dove into the water, Dick wondering of he was really going to swim all the way or if he had some kind of ride home. No matter; Garth managed.

An hour, still damp from the wave, later he pulled into the Batcave, finding Bruce working at the lab area on what looked like some DNA evidence. "Everything turn out all right?"

"Fine. Selina got away, but that's okay."

"So are you planning on explaining to me what this was all about?"

"Simple; I contacted Selina a few months ago and she agreed to get a hold of Scarecrow and Two-Face. They all contacted Joker and suggested that the four of them work together to control parts of the country and eventually the world—the beginnings of a sort of supervillian syndicate. Selina and I pretended to be an item—or that we were having an affair so that the others would think I'd go easy on them for her sake."

"Which is why you two were swapping spit for the papers a few weeks ago."

"Right…"

"But that could have gone either way; Joker might have thought that she'd gone over to your side of things and then you'd have been left hanging."

"Sure, but Selina can be very convincing when she wants to be. She talked to all of them."

"But…"

"Let me finish. As soon as all four were on board, all we had to do was convince Harvey and Jonathan that Joker was about to double-cross them and take control. Since they never completely trusted him anyway, that wasn't all that hard to do and so they agreed to the set up to catch Joker and get even with him."

"So they'll get credit against their prison terms for this?"

"Maybe. They knew it was a crapshoot and will be up to the parole panels when they come up again."

Bruce sipped the tea Alfred left him every evening. "And all those tabloid stories?"

"Those were just Joker's sense of humor, that's all. He wanted us to think he'd somehow gotten access to our private files and computers and all of that stuff like our medical files. He was trying to scare us and make trouble with all the media feeding frenzy."

Another sip of tea. "So you're not going to marry Jamie Lynn?"

"Not this week."

"Good." Pause. "Was any of that garbage true?"

"Not much."

"Some?"

"Eh."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as Dick headed to the shower.

'_So we've all had a busybusybusy week, no?_

_No, babies, I won't bore you with yet another recap, but let's just say that it hit the fan and it's still spraying. Great big globs are still landing like landmines._

_There was that bigbigbig arrest in Gotham with three great big and nutzy crazies going off to pay their many debts to society, thank goodness! Now normally we wouldn't waste our breath or blog space with such serious doings, but when they involve our own favorite babybat, well!_

_Sweetbatbuns—we heard there were shots fired and we almost messed ourselves thinking that someone might put an extra hole in that oh so cute bod you walk around in—you be careful, y'hear?_

_And, okay, we admit it—some of the things we were shoveling around the last few weeks and were—yes, we __admit__ it—planted by the number one big bad himself—Joker, and we're incredibly embarrassed to admit that we were taken in so…_

_For the record (and under some major lawsuit threat—yikes!)_

_Our favorite babybat is not, as far as we know, a friend of Ms Jamie Lynn Spears, let along kissing cousins and, no—Robin is not (a big shout out to the __not__) a babydaddy yet and there seems to be no immediate news on that front. However, if he feels like practicing, we'll be happy to give him our number._

_We've been strongly told that Speedy is clean and has kicked any and all bad habits, bless his heart and good for him._

_Wonder Girl is as pure as the driven snow. We have this on very good authority which we wouldn't think of doubting._

_Mrs. Kid Flash may rest easy knowing her every loving and very fast hub-unit loves her to pieces and is as faithful as the day is long._

_Aqualad is happy as a clam in his watery home and everything is lovely there. Honest._

_Anything we missed?_

_If there is, we're sorry about that, too._

"So Robin, I was wondering; was anything in those trash papers true? Anything?"

"Like what, Commissioner?"

"I don't know; any of it, I guess."

Rob gave a half smile then glanced up at the wall clock. "Oh jeez, I didn't realize it was so late. Gotta go." He shot a jump line out Jim Gordon's office window and swung away.

"…Damn kids." Picking up the Batphone, he muttered, "I'll get to the bottom of this…"

The End

NOTE: Time frame? Time frame? You want continuity? Sometimes one can't be troubled with details. This is one of those stories. Ah well.

8/12/08

8


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